“See that grumpy-looking guy? Rockfish. They’re good in soup. Yours is a Pacific geoduck clam.” Bo starts pointing at the different fish and explaining them to me. She’s kind of rambling, but I’ve never seen her this joyful about anything, besides maybe disco. Bo is really knowledgeable about a lot of things, like disco and social justice, but I wasn’t expecting her to be any kind of fish expert.
Fish don’t particularly interest me, but Bo is so excited about them it’s hard not to get into it. I find myself asking questions just to hear her talk. I can’t get enough.
“How do you know so much about fish?” I ask when she’s gone through all of them.
“I just really like this restaurant.” She shrugs, but I feel like there’s more to it. Before I can ask, she changes the subject.
“So . . . my dad told me you tried to leave.” She says it casually, without looking away from the fish tank.
“Oh, um, yeah. I felt bad for intruding on your guys’ Christmas, I guess.”
“Oh my gosh. Please intrude more. It’d be so boring if you left!”
“Really?”
“Trust me, you’re keeping my parents on their best behavior. They fight way more when you’re not here. And it’s way more fun with you here.” She turns her head away from the fish tank to give me an adorably crooked full-cheeked smile. “Besides, I’d miss you too much if you left.”
“Really?” I say again, this time barely hiding the squeal that wants to escape.
“Of course! Wouldn’t you miss me?”
Obviously I would, but I freeze up. Before I get the chance to answer, Rick calls us over when the food gets to the table. And it’s a good thing, because I don’t know if I could have told Bo that I would miss her without accidentally revealing all the gay-for-her feelings.
I let Bo pick my meal; she ordered me her favorite, crabmeat fish maw soup, with a boba drink. I start with the drink, since it’s a bit tamer than the meal, and chew on the cool tapioca balls while I build up my confidence to eat the soup. Baby steps.
“You don’t like the soup?” Bo asks when she notices I haven’t touched it, and because I don’t want to hurt her feelings, I make a show of taking a huge spoonful of it—then immediately spit it back out.
Not because I didn’t like it, but because it’s hot.
Bo and Rick laugh hysterically while Emma covers her mouth, looking almost as embarrassed as I feel. Luckily, I didn’t get any on their food, just on myself.
“Maybe blow on it first,” Bo says between laugh-wheezes. After wiping myself off, I go for round two. This time I take a smaller spoonful and blow it off before delicately dipping my tongue into the spoon. I immediately give Bo a thumbs-up, and she sighs in relief. I knew I liked crab but never thought to try it in a soup. The creamy, flaky texture of the crab is even softer in the thick soup it comes in, and I can’t get enough. I blow on another spoonful and slurp it right up, and Bo does the same.
After stuffing ourselves with mango pudding for dessert, we head back to Bo’s house, and everyone sits on the couches in the living room. They’re laughing and talking about things I’m not paying attention to. I laugh along, even though I’m thinking about whether or not I should even give them my present. I know Bo’s parents will want to go to bed soon, so if I’m going to give them my shitty gift, it should be now.
“Um, I know we’re not doing presents, but I made something for you guys,” I say as soon as there’s a lull in the conversation. “It’s not a Christmas present so much as, like, a thank-you? I really appreciate you guys. I don’t know why you’re all so nice to me when I haven’t done anything to deserve it. So, thanks. A lot.” I pull out a beaded family portrait of them from a folder in my bag and stretch out my hand for someone to take it away from me. It’s small, about the size of a birthday card, since I didn’t have enough material for something bigger. I’m embarrassed to even look at it, honestly. Bo’s such a better artist than me. What was I thinking, doing art for them when Bo is good enough to go pro? And beadwork of all things? What if they think it’s stupid?